


Dozens of Moments

by kimimela



Series: some damn time stamps [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 22:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3586566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimimela/pseuds/kimimela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve wonders if it is a great cosmic joke that he gets tortured on a somewhat regular basis.  Or if he always realizes things a little too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dozens of Moments

He received training when he was a SEAL for what to do when being tortured. They run you through lists of situations and possibilities. It is extensive. Everyone understands that it is easier when you are the only one who is getting hurt. Hands down the better option. It's just a mental game after that for how long you can last.

 

He has been tortured before. Understands it is a good thing he is the only one being hurt now. Four days have passed. He guesses. Knows he can make it longer. They begin to inject him with something that makes him feel like his skin does not fit: manic. Like electricity burning him, making him grit his teeth. They ask the questions when he is lucid enough. He gives them nothing. And they reward him with beatings and waking nightmares that come through a needle.

 

He relives every situation where he loses someone. Brothers and sisters in arms. Freddie. His father.

 

Again and again.

 

Wakes like he has been competing in a triathlon; sweating and weak on the floor. Dirty and tired.

 

The dehydration is frustrating. He gets little water. But he can hear water continuously dripping somewhere nearby. _Drip. Drip._

 

And it is hot in this bare cement cell with no windows. No fresh air.

 

Wo Fat torturing him was bad, too. He tries to recall. He is being held in a nicer facility this time though. Snorts when he concludes that means he is moving up in the world.

 

He talks to Wo Fat sometimes here. Laughs with him about his new circumstances. Asks him if Doris knows where his body is? If she mourns him?

 

He hears others screaming and yelling now. But he is not sure after awhile if they are really there.

 

It might be a cosmic joke since this is the second occasion where he gets tortured and drugged for information. He would like to ask someone to just stick to the beatings. If possible. Please.

 

He thinks he knows his captors faces, but then they start to blur and change.

 

He can't really tell them apart after awhile except for shape and size.

 

They take efforts to keep him weak.

 

His veins hurt. His bones ache. The cement floor is cold and bare.

 

Kono and Chin show up and he's so damn happy he could cry.

 

Instead they restrain him and water board him.

 

Asking questions over and over. He still does not have the right answers to make everything stop. They inject him again and he hates that shit. Blacks out most of the time anymore. They laugh at him when he wakes up. The betrayal tears at him.

 

Grace is crying somewhere and he can't get to her. It kills him. She can't be here though. Right?

 

He watches men get gunned down and blown up. Again and again. His ears ring from it. His teeth chatter and feel tacky with blood. He doesn't think he bleeds anymore.

 

He shivers a lot even though it's hot. Fever he thinks. Hears an old SEAL buddy call out for him.

 

Everyone he has ever considered a friend comes to hurt him. He sobs when Danny arrives. Asks them to kill him then. He won't ask again though when they refuse.

 

Grover comes back to ask him patiently again about codes and operations. He knows very little about operations anymore; can't remember them well. Barely remembers not to say anything.

 

He doesn't know any codes. He tells him so.

 

There is little water, and less food. He thinks maybe it has been a week since the last time he knew he was lucid for more than three hours.

 

It takes too long, but he eventually figures out that it is not really his team doing this to him. That he is hallucinating. Doesn't understand why he cannot perceive the faces of his captors.

 

He's finally scared when he doesn't know when he last slept. Or if he could.

 

\--

 

He is running through the jungle, chasing after Wo Fat, when he hears an explosion. He steps over a craggy wall. His lungs feel raw and clouds of dust and debris fill the air. Realizes he is barefoot.

 

He looks around the perimeter of this new space to locate exits and combatants. He attempts to exit and a man with an automatic gun attacks him. He breaks his neck. He passes identical cells to his own, most containing men laying on the floor or at the doors trying to call out to him.

 

He won't let himself be distracted from finding Wo Fat. Thinks of banging his head against a wall if that man gets away again.

 

He encounters others who are firing outside the walls. They turn to fight him and they fall. One by one. He _finally_ gets a gun.

 

God, he cannot remember feeling adrenaline like this. Maybe he had another injection? He shakes his head. Everything is a jumble anyway. He knows he will crash hard when the adrenaline is gone because his body is weak right now. Sick and hurt.

 

Wo Fat _has_ to be nearby hiding.

 

He's entered into a room that looks similar to a war room. He hears foot steps and looks to the exit. Joe White yells his name once, sharply, like he has done a million times. He pulls his gun on him. Won't let him hold him back. Joe looks shocked, aiming his own weapon at him in defense. “Steve?”

 

“Why are you here, _Joe?_ ” His voice is hoarse and raw. “I have to find Wo Fat, don't you understand?” His voice does not sound like him at all. He narrows his eyes at his former C.O.

 

Joe doesn't lower his weapon. He speaks in a soothing tone, wanting him to lower his weapon. He refuses. Two men arrive, that he doesn't recognize. He shoots high over them to warn them off. Needing to keep this party closed. Joe tackles him then. They fight and both their weapons go spinning across the cement floor.

 

He throws Joe off more easily than he would have liked in the past. The other two men attack him at once. They land some solid blows. They don't stop yelling at him to cease fighting. He hates that they keep saying his name. Like they're _begging_ him. He kicks the taller of the two away, his face blurry to his eyes.

 

The other is smaller, but well built and strong. He puts Steve in a headlock. Steve brings them to the floor scrabbling a hand around trying to find a weapon. Flips them quickly. The man gets a solid punch in at his side and another at his shoulder making it pop.

 

They roll. He hears a helicopter's propellers. He has this man pinned under him. Joe is at his periphery and he _needs_ to keep an eye on him. Has to get back to the mission. He presses down, trying to reduce the number of assailants.

 

It's like he fell in ice water when he hears the sharp keen. Throws himself away then. Scalded and weak. He chants the man's name in apology, “Danny, Danny, Danny...” as he scoots himself away, horrified at his actions.

 

Joe is watching him critically as he slowly bends to check Danny, who is coughing hard, holding his throat, and trying to sit up. Chin comes into his line of sight. His tac vest is on, badge at his belt, gun in hand, cut on his forehead. He engages the radio, calling for medical aid.

 

Chin asks him something, but he feels too fuzzy at the edges, adrenaline crash at hand. He tries to shake his head. Dizzy. Danny approaches, crouching beside him, asks him to try and stay awake.

 

Danny already looks so bruised at his collarbone. Steve touches it. He can't stay awake though.

 

–

 

Army Tripler Medical Center clears a ward for those who were held at the facility and provide guards. Twenty members of the Navy in all. Many former SEALs and high ranking officials, drugged and kidnapped, like himself. They tell him it will feel like detoxing. The substance administered to him while he was held captive was not addictive – but it was a dangerous chemical. And he was exposed to a lot of it.

 

He shivers and shakes. Throws up twice, gagging, when he tries to drink from a water bottle. It feels like the worst flu he has ever had. It would not be so bad but for the continued hallucinations.

 

He was lucid when they loaded him in the ambulance, but is hallucinating again by the time they tried to admit him. He vaguely remembers hospital staff asking and/or demanding he lay back down on a gurney. He ignored them, shaking Danny roughly by the shoulders. Danny determinedly _not_ letting go of him when he tries to leave, kicking and screaming, feeling angry with Danny for trying to make him stay in the hospital.

 

He had thought they were on a time sensitive case. That Jenna was alive still; waiting to give them intel about the case. At least he recognized his team then. They stood around him and Danny in a loose circle trying to contain him. He kept pushing Danny. Mad at him for telling him he needed to stay and get medical attention. Chin eventually convinced him to comply with the medical staff. He's more lucid by that point.

 

His wounds get cleaned and stitched. They do a CAT scan. He is put on antibiotics and low dose pain medications. He feels weak as a kitten. He remembers saying good night to the team and wants very much to sleep.

 

He apparently tries to attack several orderlies within the first few hours that night when he had tried to sleep and started hallucinating. He's told later – in great detail – that the hospital staff tried to sedate him initially, but it had not worked.

 

He put a sizable dent in the wall of his room, and broken medical equipment and furniture. Almost escaped the locked down hospital. Sedated again; and it works the second time. Pulls out his IV twice along with multiple stitches. Danny - his emergency contact – is called. The hospital staff insist his arms and legs be restrained until the chemical wears out of his system. Danny convinces them he does not need an armed guard in the room. He makes sure to apologize to the orderly whose nose he broke.

 

Sleep is scattered for a long time after that. His thoughts disorganized. They try to keep him on a sedative as his body works its way back to homeostasis. He's not quite sure he sleeps; going from blank darkness to hallucinations to lucidity. He rubs the skin on his ankles raw and causes additional harm to his wrists that have already sustained significant damage. Wakes with a jolt often, screaming for someone or looking for an escape.

 

Danny is usually humming and rubbing his chest – one of the few areas not injured – the overhead lights turned off. Machines beeping lowly in the background.

 

Whenever he settles back into lucidity, it is to Danny talking quietly to him, telling him to be careful so he doesn't pull out _more_ stitches. He thinks the ceiling leaks once because his face is wet. Complains about it to his partner.

 

Danny promises to stop the leaking.

 

He wakes up for the first time either from sleep or some strange, quiet hallucination – it's early morning he thinks - with Danny half on the chair next to the bed and half asleep on the hospital bed, head lying face down by his shoulder, arm covering his own, probably so that he wakes immediately if Steve were to start fighting the restraints again.

 

He wants to move. Feels stiff. Danny agrees to take off the restraints and helps him sit on the side of the hospital bed. He feels dizzy and sore. Danny's got an arm around his right side where he can hold him more securely and avoid exacerbating injuries.

 

His head feels heavy, filled with cotton balls so he rests it in the crook of his partner's neck. Danny rubs his back reassuringly and kisses him briefly on the temple. He thinks that's nice. He must have told Danny so because he starts to chuckle. Steve reflects he hadn't felt this vulnerable even when he was being tortured.

 

The difference between his consciousness, hallucinations, and sleep states becomes much more distinct after 48 hours. Nightmarish hallucinations occurring with less regularity and only when he sleeps.

 

He wakes in the morning four days after being recovered from the facility, biting off a yell for his father.

 

Danny's beside him murmuring something comforting under his breath and rubbing his chest in small circles. Steve relaxes and opens his eyes. Danny had taken time off work after the orderly incident. He's even got a cot next to his hospital bed now. Steve told him he did not have to stay but was promptly ignored. 5-0's wrapped up the case anyway.

 

“Good morning, Sunshine” Danny cracks, seeing him awake. “You want juice? Or I can get you something else?”

 

“Pineapple juice?” He rasps.

 

Danny undoes the restraints around Steve's ankles. “You want pineapple juice? This is Hawaii my friend, _of course,_ there's pineapple juice. What sort of establishment would this be without it?” He gives him a small, tired smile, he looks more comfortable than Steve feels, wearing a soft looking blue t-shirt and cargo shorts. He continues on to undo the wrist restraints. “You barely thrashed around this time, McGarrett. We won't need the restraints soon.”

 

“A little early in the morning for kinks, eh Danno?” Danny flicks him in the ear, and moves out of Steve's reach when he tries to swat at him.

 

“Do me a favor?” He points at Steve, backing away. “Never mention kinks in combination with Grace's name for me, yeah?”

 

Danny leaves to find food. Steve thinks the bruise at Danny's collarbone looks better today. He takes stock of his own healing injuries.

 

Still weak, but not as severely as before. Sore. Left flank stitches intact, stitching on the lacerations throughout his left arm and leg intact; wrapped and healing. Feels his face with his bandaged left hand, notes there is less swelling, the stitched areas at his temple sensitive to his touch where his skull was fractured. He has large bruises up and down his body. His right wrist and some fingers had to be set. Has no idea how they got broken. He had minimal internal injuries. Two cracked ribs. Left lung bruised. His kidneys had been bruised, making him urinate blood for a little while. He is hydrated again finally thanks to the IV. He can keep some food down now, and he's hungry for more.

 

All in all, he's been better.

 

He dozes for a while, and wakes when Danny returns with trays of food, drinks in the crook of his arm. He bends forward at the head of the bed, Steve grabs his drink clumsily and sucks at the straw.

 

“I talked to Rear Admiral Harris' wife in the cafeteria. She says he still thinks he's in Vietnam half the time. But his arm is healing nicely, and he recognizes her now.” Danny sits in the chair by the hospital bed after arranging Steve's tray so he can access it and starts in on his own.

 

“Ran into Carrie too.” He says, cutting up his food. “She's ready to get the hell out. I don't know what room they have her in but I hope it's near the nurses' station.”

 

“She'll find a way out,” Steve rasps, then pops another spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth. He had had Danny run through a list of the other captives held with him. He has at least heard of and met most of people on the list before. But Carrie Natz and Paul Sorenson were the only ones he had served with in the Navy.

 

The information leaked to the people holding them had been minimal. They were all abducted within hours of each other. And held for nearly a week. Most - in the terrorist cell holding them - were killed in the attack on the facility, a significant portion of the guard he took out himself while hallucinating after escaping his cell, a little more than a dozen are arrested. Their leader had attempted to blow up the cells holding them, after determining their organization was collapsing, killing two captives, and injuring others including himself.

 

Danny clears away their food a short time later. A nurse comes in to check his vitals, and gives an evasive response to Steve's question about discharge. He feels tired, but does not want to sleep. He's slept too much. Danny dabs at his shirt where he spilt some of his breakfast when he was fumbling to eat with his wrapped hands. His partner sighs. Closes the door, sits Steve up, and strips him down to his boxers.

 

He grabs some of the hospital's no-rinse body wipes from a nurse's cart. Steve holds on to the plastic headboard as Danny begins wiping away dried on blood, dust, dirt, and whatever the hell else that was not wiped away in antiseptic solutions to clean open wounds.

 

Which ends up being more than he would have guessed. They easily fill up a waste basket with soiled wipes. Danny cleans carefully around the stitched areas on his left side, working his way across his shoulders.

 

“You're probably gonna have to get touch ups on some of your tattoos.”

 

“Yeah.” Steve nods, drowsily, enjoying the feeling of Danny cleaning the back of his neck and ears.

 

Danny helps him into clean briefs, scrub pants and a shirt from the bag he had hastily packed at Steve's house days earlier. There's a knock at the door and Kono and Chin enter as Danny is helping him lay back against the propped up hospital bed. Feels himself perk up some to see them.

 

They look hesitant seeing him, and Steve wonders again how he must look or what he said when he saw them last. Kono smiles endearingly with a “Howzit?”

 

“Looking better, Steve.” Chin calmly comments, smiling.

 

“I'll be good as new soon if I can get out of here,” He answers immediately, still croaky sounding. “I can recover at home now.”

 

“It would be nice to upgrade to a couch.” Danny adds, scratching his chin and settling in the hospital chair, yawning widely.

 

Steve asks Chin and Kono about any new information regarding the terrorist cell and where he was being held, waiting for prosecution. He learns – something he had feared – that an ex-government operative had been the mastermind behind everything. He allows the end to this case in his head. They speak at length about a meeting Chin took with the Governor while Steve was indisposed, the surf that morning, and how they've handled finishing the reports for this one.

 

He begins to feel dizzy, and looks to the side listlessly at Danny. He wants to go home to sleep in his own bed. Starts drifting to sleep, and doesn't understand when Kono and Chin start looking anxiously at each other. Danny is saying something reassuring and putting the restraints around his wrists, leaving his ankles unrestrained.

 

“Danny, 'M tired.” He complains.

 

“I know.” Danny agrees, pulling a light blanket over him. “We'll talk later. You'll feel better when you wake up.”

 

Kono comes up beside him and pats him gently on the shoulder.

 

A day later, he sneaks out of the room while Danny's asleep and snags a wheelchair. He makes it to Sorenson's room undetected. They're catching up, comparing injuries, and started reminiscing about a long ago tour when the orderly whose nose he broke catches him.

 

“You shouldn't do that to your husband, Commander.” Mrs. Harris chides, clucking her tongue at him from the doorway of the Rear Admiral's hospital room. Steve scoffs, mutinous as he's wheeled back to his room.

 

Danny's hands are on his hips and he looks like he's trying to be disapproving, but is holding back a smile. “We need to get you discharged like yesterday.”

 

“That's what I've been saying.”

 

His partner sighs, rolling his eyes. It works though because he gets discharged a little over two hours later after a stern warning and a list of directions from his doctor; handed directly to Danny.

 

He knows things are back to normal – more or less – when Danny yells at him for trying to go up the stairs on his own.

 

–

 

Steve wakes up the second night back curled up in his easy chair. He does not feel exhausted which is nice. He looks over to see Danny snoring softly into a pillow on the couch with one ear bud playing city sounds from his iPod and the other laying on his stomach. Steve cautiously gets up and shuffles quietly to the main floor's bathroom.

 

He has not looked at himself properly in a mirror, and is not completely unsurprised to see he looks like road rash. He sighs, thinking he needs fresh air.

 

His toes are digging into the cool, wet sand as he lets them get caught by the ocean rolling inward. Back and forth. Relaxing him. He doesn't go too far in the surf afraid the wounds on his lower legs would burn from the salt in the water.

 

He senses Danny at his back before he acknowledges him.

 

“I didn't mean to wake you up.”

 

Danny joins him standing side by side in the shallow water. “The funny thing about insomnia is that I tend to wake up at random times.” Danny's hands are in the pockets of his sweatpants, shoulders hunched forward. He clears his throat. “What I don't appreciate is waking up and finding that my still-injured partner is no where to be found _especially_ when the doctor ordered that he should not be alone for a few days.”

 

Steve flinches, “Sorry.”

 

“It's okay … Just don't do it again - until you look less like the living dead.”

 

They watch the ebb and flow of the water for some time. At least he does. Enjoys smelling the ocean, listening to the wind rustling around them, the comfortable heat of the outside. Steve feels good; grounded again.

 

“Do you remember, some of what you said in the hospital? Like – the first two days?”

 

“Not really, no.” He pauses, looks over at Danny, somewhat concerned, “Was it embarrassing?”

 

There is a long silence.

 

“What did I say?”

 

“Uh, mostly truly upsetting things about combat – I think – and people who were being hurt around you.” Danny takes a deep breath. “But, uh, you kept _calling_ for me – when you were at your worst.”

 

“I'm sorry?” He tries, confused. Danny looks torn.

 

“No I--” Danny shakes his head, grimacing, takes his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms. “Just -- it made sense that you would call for me. Like it's my damn job to take care of you – or something.” Danny looks sideways at him, mouth crooked in a frown. His voice rough when he continues.

 

“I felt like I was being _pulled apart_ the whole time you were gone. And I had to keep it together to find you with the team. Kept thinking you needed me, and I couldn't _find_ _you_. Everyone was going crazy. I --” His voice breaks off and he looks down at his feet in the sand.

 

There is another silence where Steve listens hard to Danny breathing.

 

“It hurt like hell that I thought _I wouldn't see you again_.” Danny finishes, sounding wretched.

 

Steve thinks there is a slight chance he might be hallucinating again. He hopes he isn't. The tips of his fingers feel numb, but he can feel the sand between his toes.

 

They are too close now. Face to face. He knows he should put more space here. Separate.

 

He always separated before. But it just occurred to him that maybe he could stay this once.

 

Danny stands stock-still, looking at him transfixed. “Holy shit.” Danny whispers, sounding genuinely surprised, looks it too. He rests his bandaged hands heavily on the shorter man's shoulders. Danny looks incredulously at him. “ _Really?_ ” His voice slightly hysterical.

 

“If this is real … I think so. Yeah.”

 

“No _fucking_ way--”

 

Steve cuts him off by resting their foreheads together, feels the shock of skin on skin, noses barely touching, “If I'm out of line ...” He whispers, wanting guidance here. Listens to Danny's breath stutter, eyelids fluttering at his nearness.

 

And damn it all if he does not want closer to this man who already means so much to him. He looks too beautiful out here with him.

 

They kiss tentatively. Lips barely touching. Like a spark, it is electric to his system. Heating him up. It is one of the most chaste kisses he has ever had in his life, but his heart is pounding like he's running a marathon. He backs off to look at Danny, keeps his hands placed on Danny's shoulders. Danny is flushed, sucking on his lower lip, eyes searching his face.

 

“I don't know how to do this.” Danny grinds out, eyes wide. “Is this okay? You're still hurt and I--”

 

He kisses him again – not wanting to let Danny try to figure out why this won't work - and it's deeper this time. He can taste Danny when he runs his tongue along the seam of his lips. Feels him reach his own tongue out hesitantly, and he sucks at the side of it, making Danny's shoulders shudder and twitch under his bandaged hands. And why has he never done this before? Danny tastes amazing.

 

Danny breaks the kiss and pushes away the hands on his shoulders. “No. We shouldn't. You're hurt. And we'll regret whatever ...” He moves his hand between them. Frantic.

 

“I won't.” Steve states, defiant.

 

“What?”

 

“I won't regret it – this – us – _thing_.”

 

Danny laughs in derision, still sounding slightly hysterical. He scrubs his hands over his face, half turned away. Shaking his head, he walks quickly back to the house. Steve stands shocked for a moment, arms at his side, then jogs to catch up with him. Wincing against soreness.

 

He can't let Danny ignore him now. It will hurt too much. And he is tired of being hurt.

 

He grabs clumsily at Danny, turning him toward himself, and crowding him against one of the posts surrounding the lanai. He moves his face close to Danny's own.

 

“You once said that Billy and Catherine shouldn't work together because they'd inevitably have a moment and reconnect.”

 

“Yeah, _so?_ ” Danny asks wildly, bringing his hands up, palms out for space. “What does that have to do with _anything_?”

 

“So – don't ignore _this_ moment.”

 

“ _We are not reconnecting!”_ Danny whispers furiously, pointing his index finger sharply into Steve's chest. “That was about two people who had real feelings for each other in the past.”

 

“And we don't have feelings for each other?”

 

Danny looks taken aback. Lowers his finger.

 

“I honestly don't know, Steve.” His voice quiet, unsure, eyes clouded. “Sometimes ...”

 

“Well, I know.” He argues. “We've had _dozens_ of moments. Since the beginning. And we never acted on _any_ of them. Why can't we act on this one?”

 

“Steve.” Danny tries to placate him. But he doesn't want that right now.

 

“I don't want to let this moment go.”

 

Danny puts his hands on the sides of Steve's face, cupping his jaw. Their eyes lock. And this is the most scared -- the most uncertain he has ever seen him. His pale, blue eyes wide and pleading.

 

“I – I _cannot_ lose another important relationship.” He whispers, hoarsely. “You're my _best friend._ Do you understand that? Do you understand how important you are to me? And I think if I let this happen … if we regret it. This will ruin any chance of friendship we could keep safe.”

 

He feels like they are on a precipice. Thinks he's already fallen. How could he not know he had feelings for this man?  Felt something pulling at his edges for a long time now. Didn't recognize it.  How can Danny not understand?

 

“Please trust me,” He murmurs, gently tapping his wrapped hands against the ones holding his face. “I'll let it go if that's what you want. But I _do_ want you … however you let me.”

 

He watches Danny close his eyes for a long moment and exhale slowly in the still, warm night.

 

“We are not _doing anything_ of a sexual nature tonight. Do you understand me?”

 

He laughs. Joyous. Thinks he is hysterical now. He carefully wraps his arms around Danny and rocks them from side to side.

 

Danny's forehead is pressed hard against the side of his neck, arms embracing him back. He can feel his hot puffs of breath cover his chest. Steve rubs his scruff over the side of his head.

 

“I meant it, no funny business.” Steve chuckles at that and nods. He wants this badly. Can feel he is close to getting him.

 

Danny leads him back to his easy chair and flops down on the couch, covering himself with a blanket. He thinks he won't be able to sleep. Watches Danny mutter complaints and get comfortable on the couch. But he is down for he count in a matter of minutes. Sleep covering him.

 

He wakes to a bright morning. Danny is prompting him to take his pain medication and antibiotics, holding out a glass of orange juice. He offers him toast and scrambled eggs.

 

Danny's eating some toast, coffee in hand, legs crossed, sitting on the couch. He looks ruffled this morning. Hair askew. Shirt and sweats wrinkled. Steve considers him.

 

“Have you ever been with a man?” He asks curiously. They haven't discussed past relationships much besides the obvious exception of Rachel. Only relationships they began since knowing one another- which had always been with women. “I have if that makes you feel any better.” He adds nonchalantly, munching his toast.

 

He probably should have waited until Danny wasn't eating because he is choking on toast now. Coughing hard. He takes a gulp from his coffee to wash whatever got stuck down.

 

“Shit, Steve.” Danny sputters. Steve looks at him expectantly.

 

“I, uh, well...” He flushes hard, and rubs the back of his neck, blinking. “Ah. Once. No – twice. Sorry. Both, uh, one night stands.” Danny coughs again still red with embarrassment. “My only one night stands.” He quietly concludes.

 

“Did anyone ever know you were interested in men?”

 

“Not really, um, my brother did, Rachel, and my first partner: Grace. There was never really anything to know. I never even slept with a man until after my marriage.” Danny answers with a small frown, but then looks pointedly at Steve, hands clasped around his mug of coffee. He sounds accusing when he asks, “Shouldn't I be asking _you_ this? You're Mr. Super SEAL. DADT's only been gone a couple of years.”

 

“Most of my sexual encounters – with men and women – have been random one night stands where ever I was. Or with friends where we had an understanding.”

 

“An understanding?” Danny makes a face, nose wrinkling. “Like with Catherine?”

 

“Sort of.” He shrugs. He likes sex. Loves it, in fact, since he was a teenager. He tries not to put a lot of pressure or requirements on his partners. Especially if they aren't serious.

 

“That's how it was with us at first sure, but then we tried to be serious. But you know that.” Danny hums in acknowledgment.

 

“I never had an understanding with any male friends or colleagues in the Navy. I didn't want to start anything casual up that – if we were caught – then someone would lose their career. You know?”

 

Danny nods.

 

“Besides, I never met anyone while in service that I couldn't just ignore an attraction to.”

 

They finish their breakfast. Danny is cleaning up in the kitchen when Steve walks to the bathroom to take stock of his injuries. Determines the stitches on his temple and some holding together shallow wounds on his shin and shoulder can be removed. He needs to re-bandage the others and apply ointment. But he needs to shower first. He goes into the kitchen, where Danny is finishing up, carefully picks up a small bowl, and finds some tweezers and nail clippers in the junk drawer.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Gonna shower and pull out some stitches.”

 

“Let me help so you don't fall over and hurt yourself even more.” Danny insists.

 

He sits on the toilet and watches Danny sterilize the tweezers and nail clippers. He pulls out bandages, adhesives, ointment, rubbing alcohol, and wash rag; placing them on the counter.

 

Steve carefully strips down. He peels off bandages and the wrappings around his left hand and wrist, throwing them in the trash. The right wrist, he leaves wrapped in the brace, to keep the break secure. He turns the shower on and adjusts the shower head to release a small, gentle spray. He sits carefully at the lip of the tub. Washes with a soapy sponge, careful around each injury site.

 

Danny stands outside the shower curtain, half concealed, looking hesitant. Steve realizes he is naked in front of someone he has a romantic interest in and wishes he had had the forethought to grab a towel to cover his groin. He sighs. Good job, McGarrett.

 

On the other hand. He's known Danny for years. And they have seen each other in varying levels of undress before. He directs Danny to help him wash his back to break the awkwardness. Danny helps him as Steve continues on to wash his face and hair.

 

Danny's hands are warm at his back, scrubbing, and Steve has to suppress an involuntary shudder. He makes himself focus on carefully rinsing off instead. Danny hands him a towel, and he dries off, covering himself. He hoists himself up to sit on the bathroom counter, trying not to wince.

 

Danny pats his temple dry then applies the rubbing alcohol to sterilize. He gets to work pulling out the stitches.

 

“You're good at this,” Steve comments, watching Danny focus on his work.

 

“I'm good at a lot of things,” Danny asserts promptly, but colors immediately afterward, avoiding Steve's eye line.

 

Danny finishes taking out the stitches and helps him to apply ointment and re-bandage everything. Steve feels a bit stupid siting there in just a towel in front of Danny who is dressed in loose t-shirt and sweats.

 

When they finish putting bandages on, Steve cuffs Danny gently at the elbow with his re-wrapped hand. He raises his fingertips to let them graze over the yellow and green bruise at Danny's exposed collarbone. Makes a sad noise in the back of his throat. Feels awful he made it.

 

He opens his legs and Danny takes a step to stand in the vee there. He crosses his ankles behind Danny, and brings him in for a kiss.

 

They open up for each other this time. Steve sucks at Danny's tongue, enjoying the sound his partner makes in approval. They lazily make out. Exploring. Getting to know how the other will kiss. They bump into each other and laugh softly when they do something out of sync. Learning, returning to their kissing. Danny's hands roam his chest and shoulders careful to avoid pressing injuries.

 

Danny bites at his lower lip, pulling it forward with his teeth before letting go. They take a breath. Warm air puffing against each other. Steve kisses his cheek, makes eye contact to confirm Danny is okay, and licks away along his neck to suck at his pulse point. Making Danny twitch again. He licks along his collarbone too, placing small kisses throughout, when Danny interrupts.

 

“Can I touch you?” Danny asks, pulling in question at the towel around his waist. “I don't expect anything right now … I'd just like to, uh.” He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing.

 

“Yeah.” Steve agrees. He moves the towel to the side, still sitting on it. He thinks he short-circuits when Danny grips him loosely around the base of his cock. Steve gasps and Danny raises his brow, smug. Danny runs his fingers all over him as he hardens. Caresses his inner thighs, before returning to cup his balls, rolling them between his fingers.

 

“Do you want to go upstairs with me?”

 

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Danny remarks, leaning back and smirking. “Because I don't know if you've _noticed_ , but you're not exactly up to anything too physically demanding right now.”

 

Steve looks down at his erection then back at Danny - sad – and frowns. Danny laughs - face lighting up - and aids him in getting down from the counter. He leans bodily on Danny as they ascend the stairs to his room. He sits on the side of his bed. Buck ass naked save for bandages and tattoos. Tries to lean back on his arms to look more confident, but flinches at the tug from healing wounds. Danny catches his grimace and rolls his eyes, smile fond.

 

He's surprised when Danny chucks his slippahs off, and takes off his shirt anyway. Distracted by his bare chest, sprinkled with golden hair.

 

“I was serious you know. You are not seducing me into having crazy SEAL sex right now.” Danny kneels on the bed next to him, smile crooked. “But we can figure something else out.”

 

Steve grins. Lets Danny arrange him how he likes, laying back against the pillows on his bed. He tells him where the lube and condoms are. Danny retrieves the lube and lays beside Steve. He bends over to kiss Steve where he lays on the bed, his elbows on either side of his head, resting his pelvis half on top of Steve's own, curling a leg between his legs. They look at each other, close enough that the scruff on their chins touch.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hi.”

 

They both snort at that exchange. Danny's eyes crinkle at the corners.

 

Danny feels hot beside him, skin connecting and sticking. They kiss deeply, tongues intertwined. Steve feels that he is hard again, rubs up at Danny's leg. Seeking contact. The fingers not contained by the bandages, he runs through Danny's hair - purposefully messing it up - pulling at the ends.

 

He kisses behind Danny's ear, nipping with his teeth, which is a great idea because Danny shudders and makes a breathy noise. He scratches his own fingers over Steve's scalp raising goosebumps in his wake. They kiss again, Danny rolls his hips once downward making Steve shudder.

 

Danny rolls away to lay on his back beside Steve, breathing deeply. He throws his arm over his head and looks sideways at him. “What do you want, McGarrett?” Steve grabs at Danny's free arm between them and pulls his hand over his chest. He grunts at Danny trying to get him to rub his chest, and Danny obliges.

 

He fondles himself clumsily – brace holding his right wrist in the way - while Danny rubs his chest and watches him, pupils wide and interested. He speeds up, heels digging into the bed, wanting to come. He feels raw when Danny coats his fingers in lube and trails his hand down to join.

 

Steve keeps their hands going, and turns his head to watch Danny. He's flushed, biting his lower lip, focused on getting him off. Danny's erection obvious in his sweats. They are both breathing hard in the quiet of his room. Steve groans loudly, when Danny squeezes him on a down stroke. Danny glances at him and flushes harder, catching Steve looking at him.

 

“Shut up.” He mutters embarrassed, hand stuttering around Steve's dick, then redoubling his efforts, making him groan.

 

Steve grins confident, feeling his orgasm building up as his balls tighten in warning. He comes, shooting over his stomach, relaxing back into his mattress. Feels great.

 

When he looks around again, Danny's wiping his hand on a tissue. He tosses the used tissue paper toward the trash can.

 

Steve turns carefully to his side to kiss him sloppily at the corner of his mouth. Danny laughs, but adjusts and returns the kiss. Steve runs his fingers over the inseam on the sweats covering Danny's erection, pushing down. Danny hisses through his teeth in response.

 

“Show me how you would normally get off,” Steve rasps, sliding his fingers along Danny's waistline. “If you were on you're own.” He pulls at the string cinching the sweat pants, trying to open them.

 

Danny arches off the bed, quickly pushing down his sweats and underwear, erection springing free. He kicks them off the end of the bed with his feet. He sits up against the headboard.

 

“Okay, Okay, so assuming, I've determined _no one_ will interrupt me.” Steve nods, leering, encouraging him to continue with his hand. “I'd uh – _don't look at me like that, Steven –_ “ Danny catches his leer. And Steve exaggeratedly frowns instead, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

 

Danny relaxes against his pillow, blows a piece of hair out of his face. “Okay, I'd bend my knee like so.” He brings his knee up, foot pressing down into the mattress. “And, I like to just get my knuckles going up and down like this.” He demonstrates with his hand curled, dragging his knuckles up the shaft. Steve's mouth goes dry watching, feels a halfhearted twinge from his own dick.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I-I usually have lotion, but you have, uh, lube which is better anyway so--” He wraps his hand firmly around his shaft, stroking upward. “Then I just --” He grunts in the back of his throat, and Steve watches him jack himself slowly, getting a rhythm going. Danny's toes curl into the covers. “Go with the grain.”

 

“Anything else?” Steve's voice sounds strange to his ears.

 

Danny's whole body is squirming. Steve thinks he looks great right now on his bed. “If I have time I, ah, put fingers in, ah, in the shower.” He continues making firm strokes upward, and brings down his other hand to grip his balls.

 

“You gonna show me?”

 

“No, I don't think so.” Danny answers, eyes closed, hands moving. “You might have to earn that-ah.” He lifts his hips upward, humming. Focused. Steve bites his lip, reaches out to scratch at Danny's side.

 

“Always fingers, Danny?”

 

“No.” Danny blinks furiously, remembering his audience. “I have a vibrator I use sometimes to stimulate my prostate … But I haven't -” He stops, and puts his lips in a firm line, to keep himself quiet. “... In a _long_ while. Always feels so weird.” He says, pulls at himself more quickly, corkscrewing up at the head. Panting. Steve traces his fingers over Danny's ribs, engrossed in the scene before him. Feeling a light sheen of sweat on him.

 

“Who do you think about? To get you going?” He places a firm hand at Danny's hip, digs his fingers in, massaging. Danny's looking at him from the corner of his eye, teeth biting into his lower lip, breathing heavily through his nose.

 

“Do you think about me Danny?” Steve asks huskily in his ear, eyes dark and lidded. “Do you think of me when you've got one hand on yourself and three fingers in?”

 

He thinks he might because he goes rigid and comes in his hand a moment later.

 

Steve chuckles and presses a kiss into his shoulder. “So I should take that as a yes?”

 

“You have an-” Danny catches his breath, moves to kiss his forehead. “Inflated ego. I won't be the one to add to it.”

 

They lie on their sides looking at each other. Close. Danny is tracing a finger around his tattoo. Comfortable reclining next to him. Steve thinks he's ready for a nap.

 

“I don't want to be an arrangement you have with a friend, Steve.” Danny starts, meeting his eye line. “I'm too old for that, if I could ever have done something like that ... I should have said before.”

 

“I know.” He does. Danny is totally and absolutely a relationship person. He wouldn't want it any other way.

 

–

 

He goes back to work a week later after what he would call a polite conversation – but Danny called an interrogation – with his doctor.

 

Got his approval though, didn't he?

 

Danny wants to keep things quiet right now. Let them adjust to the relationship first. He's good with that. It is not like they can't go out together. Everyone who does not know them already thinks they are married or whatever.

 

So really it is just their family and friends that don't know. That's alright for now.

 

He got by with frottage and mutual hand jobs while he was healing. But by the fifth day, after Danny comes to visit him after work, he jumped him.

 

It had been some of the hottest sex he'd ever had on the floor - which by its nature - tends to be a spontaneous event.

 

He'd prepped before hand. Barely got Danny ready with a condom on before pushing down on him. Danny had yelled lowly at him, squirming and fucking upward into him. Head falling back on tile sharply. Filling him perfectly.

 

He will say this for Danny's cock. It is bigger than one would expect a man his size. He likes it a lot already. Hopes to become life long friends with it.

 

His knees were scrapped after, but it was _so_ worth it. He had come so hard he had seen stars. Danny had orgasmed calling his name which was spectacular – and an ego boost. Held Danny in his arms, licked at his collarbone.

 

In the following two months, if someone were to ask him, he would say that he does not treat Danny any differently at work now that they are together. He does not let his gaze linger. They interact the same as always. Danny is still grumpy and easily upset by – well - everything. Business as usual.

 

Maybe he should have figured out his feelings for him earlier.

 

After work one evening, he takes Danny to a local dinner. He digs into his plate. He loves the tuna melts here. Ordered one for Danny too. They even make sweet potato waffle fries which he gobbles down. Danny sighs dramatically, “I've realized the romance is gone.”

 

“Don't say that, Danno.” He speaks around a mouth full of food. Takes another bite. Watches Danny inspect his own sandwich.

 

“I'll say what I like. You realize, casual dining experiences where you watch your significant other engorge themselves on waffle fries - without a care in the world - I tell you -”

 

“They're endless. It's a deal right now.”

 

“--Is a sign there is no longer any mystery to a relationship. Am I wrong?”

 

Steve swallows, shrugging, still holding his tuna melt, “Well you have seen me use the bathroom a few times now.”

 

“Not our best moments.” Danny takes a bite. Raises his brow. “Oh my God. This is good!”

 

“I told you that you'd like it as much as our drive in place.”

 

“You're still not allowed to go there without me.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Steve drives him home, and Danny makes minimal comments detracting his driving. Sated and content. Danny pulls him into the house. Tells him he's spending the night.

 

Steve has found he enjoys watching Danny. He especially enjoys watching Danny lick his was up the left side of his body over freshly healed, pink scars. Danny looks luminous in the fading light outside the bedroom window.

 

He reaches to grab Danny's chin and bring him up to meet him in a kiss. It feels like his body is thrumming where their bodies touch. He's grinning when they break apart.

 

Steve straddles him. Likes the feeling of being over him. He asked early on if Danny would feel too claustrophobic. But Danny lets him lean over close anyways.

 

Danny has slicked them both up, rubbing them purposefully together. Nerves firing on all cylinders. Hands interlaced. Steve leans down to lick the underside of his jaw and begins to tease the place behind Danny's ear.

 

“You gonna let me?” Steve asks, licking his way around the shell of his partner's ear. Danny jacking them both. Steve's free hand massaging at Danny's lower back. He likes it. Danny's never had it done to him.

 

“Yeah – okay.”

 

He pushes Danny to move on his stomach, pillow placed under his hips, head resting on his forearms. They discussed it earlier. He can wait. But Danny had wanted to try.

 

He had told Danny that he is more than fine with bottoming. Chose it for the control most of the time. If he's honest with himself, he does not have a preference either way. Danny had called him a switch hitter. He uses a generous amount of lube and takes his time to loosen him up.

 

He is in no damn hurry. And Danny's so nice like this open and wanting. Telling him what he wants Steve to do. It is his natural state after all.

 

“You got it, babe. Keep going.” Danny says, voice muffled by his arm.

 

Sex with Danny seems to vacillate between hot-fast or hot-slow. And this is definitely the latter. The room is warm despite the ceiling fan slowly making its rotation.

 

He wonders why he shouldn't have more moments like this when he slowly sinks into Danny. Groaning. Encouraging him to relax, tan hands kneading at his boyfriend's back as Danny demands that he go faster. Steve is fully seated and feels that familiar feeling of the world tilting on its axis when he is this connected to Danny.

 

Danny tells him to move or get the hell out. And he is happy to comply. Focused on this feeling. An electric pull and shock.

 

They lay tangled together afterward. Tired and relaxed.

 

“What are you thinking?”

 

Danny laughs, head lying on Steve's chest, “I think I want to do that more.” He turns his head to smirk up at him, “And often.”

 

“I think I can make something work.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Another in this series. Not Beta read. Any errors are my own. Comments are most welcome. I'd like to thank everyone for kudos and encouragement.
> 
> Cheers.


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